


Claustrophobia, Locked Away

by ImpulsivelyBlue



Series: Phobia [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Claustrophobia, Gen, jason tood in arkham, pack your bags we're going on a feels trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1618310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpulsivelyBlue/pseuds/ImpulsivelyBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claustrophobia, the fear of having no escape or confined spaces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claustrophobia, Locked Away

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Phobia, a pathological fear.

Claustrophobia, the fear of having no escape or confined spaces.

\---

Jason hated the cells in Arkham, because that’s what they were cells. No matter how many times the so called doctors and nurses claimed that the rooms were just that, rooms, and should be refers to as such. The prisoners, patients they insisted on calling them, were confined to these rooms for almost the full day; there were times that they were able to leave with permission of the doctors and countless pointless sessions with a psychologist before it was accepted.

Jason hated it. The walls began to close in on him, becoming smaller and smaller until it was like being locked away in the tiny room he called his bedroom when he lived with his adopted mother in Crime Alley, but then as time stretched on it quiet minuets and only measureable by how many meals he was given did the cell he was confined to become smaller still, a cupboard where he his during school when it just became too much despite Bruce and Alfred’s best efforts to introduce him to this new world of food on the table and flying through the sky at night.

After that the nightmares start with fresh energy, crawling from the corners of his thoughts and clawing at his consciousness, fighting to keep him to them selves, locked away in unconscious reliving in the moment of the memory nightmares.

Sometimes he would be able to leave, followed by armed guards and doctors who were willing to risk being so close to him. It was the breath of fresh air and freedom that drove him. The feeling of movement and air in his lungs all the motivation he needed to survive, to escape.

Sometimes he isn’t able to leave the cell, room, hell that he was confined to. Fevered dreams and drugged nightmares plagued him crawling in to his mind and festering like the untreated hurt it was. It was like dying all over again, confined to the coffin as he screamed and cried and clawed at the top of the coffin, fighting for his life but losing his sanity.

Arkham Asylum was not a hospital, mental or otherwise, it was not a place where people were cured and they were treated with care and understanding, Arkham Asylum was a prison, a hell, the monsters that paraded in the doctors skin were the keepers and the tormenters while the patients, prisoners, victims were their source of sick entertainment.

It was a hell that Jason couldn’t escape from, the walls were to close and the memories too close as he fell further and further in to his own anger and resentment and his rage, losing the shreds of sanity that had dug themselves in to his skin like the splinters of the coffin, his coffin. But for that moment of freedom, of air in his lungs, Jason would do anything for that feeling. He would kill and he would maim and he would die to have that moment, just as long as he didn’t have to go back to the prison, cell, room and no oversized bat was going to make him go back.

\---


End file.
